


Downtime

by cal1brations



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, F/M, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:04:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal1brations/pseuds/cal1brations
Summary: Supply lines aren't inherently sexy, but the way Obi-Wan tenderly murmurs about them into the curve of Anakin's neck definitely fucking is.





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know a super lot about the Clone Wars, so please don't look too into the politics going on; I just needed some vague set-up, lol.

Anakin can't stop watching the way the light falls over Obi-Wan's face.

It's not that Obi-Wan is decrepit or anything; he's got some years on Anakin, but it suits him. The worry lines in his forehead, the creases from too much frowning, all of it suits Obi-Wan in a devastatingly-handsome kind of way, if Anakin were to put a name to it. Devastating because it's Obi-Wan, which is a whole suitcase that Anakin does not see fit to properly unpack.

Obi-Wan is allowed to be handsome-- devastatingly so, even. As long as Anakin is around to quietly leer at all his devastating handsomeness, Obi-Wan can be as handsome as he sees fit.

"Anakin. I can hear your thoughts from here."

Anakin at least has the decency to slowly turn his head away from the older Jedi, despite being caught red-handed. He purses his lips as he stifles a sigh, wondering just how much Obi-Wan knows. One might think Anakin would be wiser now, having served as the Padawan to wise old Master Kenobi for a number of years, but one would be sorely mistaken to assume such a thing. Anakin is as impulsive and stupid as ever-- perhaps moreso when it's out here in the middle of Fuckhole, Nowhere, on some empty planet with only the war as scenery.

War sucks, Anakin has learned, but as much as he gripes and whinges, there really isn't anyone else he'd want to be stuck fighting a war beside.

And, well, it's not like they're on the front lines now. This is a diplomacy mission, a cry for help to a planet who is caught between the rallying of the Republic and the violent demands of the Seperatists. Master Kenobi-- _The Negotiator_ , as he's been referred to quite often, lately-- and Knight Skywalker have been sent to oversee the peace talks. Obi-Wan is seriously good at playing good cop; Anakin is more of the sly tactician-type of diplomat, able to talk his way out of a wet paper bag.

Today has been good for talking. Good enough that it has ended with Anakin and Obi-Wan being put up in a very nice hotel room, courtesy of the politicians that think they will gain the upper hand by providing them luxuries. Clearly they are not entirely familiar with Jedi customs, but neither Anakin nor Obi-Wan are about to turn down a chance to sleep in fresh-made beds and have their clothes properly laundered.

And now Anakin is scratching his chin, trying not to ogle Obi-Wan per his implication as Obi-Wan focuses on reading updates from the HoloNet; diplomacy requires a keen eye for current events, and Obi-Wan is nothing if not prepared for any kind of situation.

Anakin thinks he almost gets away with just that, with Obi-Wan passively chiding him for his silly behavior before spurring him back to work, but just as Anakin moves to catch up on some reading of his own, he hears Obi-Wan asking him, "What's caught your interest?"

Oh. You know. Don't we _all_ feel the need to ogle our prior-mentors and very best friends every now and then? Doesn't everyone struggle with the stomach-knotting want that gnaws at them in these moments of quiet, craving for a closeness that never seems like enough?

"Nothing," Anakin lies, the word an unenthusiastic mumble. He feels the flare of Obi-Wan's near-omnipotence in the Force, which makes him roll his eyes privately to himself. So nosy. "You find anything we need to know about?"

Obi-Wan, thankfully, switches gears quickly. "Nothing we need be particularly concerned with. The battle outside of Coruscant is ongoing-- plenty of losses on both sides." He sits back against the sofa they're both perched on, seeming pleased with his findings. "No news certainly seems to be good news."

Anakin nods his agreement. There's a warning in the Force, something half-hearted that tells him it's not good to give into the urge, but Anakin finds himself doing it anyway: he pulls a stupid move and scoots next to Obi-Wan on the sofa, hanging over his shoulder to get a look at the report Obi-Wan is idly sifting through. He's close enough that he can smell whatever it is that Obi-Wan smells like (something good, that's all that matters), and struggles not to let his breath come out in a shaky sigh through his nose after the fact.

Obi-Wan's side of the Force radiates something like... interest? Maybe just smugness; it's not like he doesn't know. This isn't unfamiliar territory for them, after all. Sometimes it seems like everything just... happens. Like it's all been holding back, or building up, and then Anakin and Obi-Wan have a moment alone and it just explodes into a moment that probably shouldn't happen, but neither of them seem to be strong enough to stop it.

It's not unfaithfulness on Anakin's part, either. Padmé knows. Hell, _she_ knew before Anakin could really even comprehend it, what it is between him and Obi-Wan, since it sure as hell isn't the typical bond that former Masters and Padawans seem to share. _Not a typical kind of love_ , she had mused to Anakin while they laid in bed together, just the two of them, petting the hair away from Anakin's face with her delicate fingers. _But it's something-- perhaps there is no name. But I know how close you two are. I can see what you mean to each other. As long as_ our _love is here, between us, I would not have you change the way things are between you and Obi-Wan for my sake. I want you to be happy, Ani._

So at least there's understanding on someone's behalf, somewhere. Anakin still doesn't let himself think about it in her specific words. Obi-Wan would likely have a stroke if he had to think about the idea of some kind of love being there between the two of them, since it's not the _Jedi Way_ and blah blah blah. It's a lecture Anakin has heard far too many times, and he isn't interested in unpacking all that in the middle of a war.

He just... will take what he can get. Which is Obi-Wan's friendship, his dry humor, his ridiculously-quick wit and comforting level-headedness. It's Obi-Wan being there for him no matter what Anakin needs-- maybe not always in the way Anakin _thinks_ he needs it, but regardless. It's Obi-Wan knowing him better than anyone, even better than Padmé does, sometimes, and having someone in his corner.

It's also jerking each other off in mostly-silence when all of that Whatever It Is between them builds to an irresistible crescendo and they end up tangled up with hands down pants, working off stress or relief or whatever it is that orgasm seems to quell for both of them.

So, Anakin can't tell what exactly Obi-Wan's side of the Force is trying to convey to him, since it seems to be an even mix of intrigue and smugness and dull anxiety, but there's something there. He swallows, the apple of his throat bobbing as he tries to make sense of the words in the report rather than think about how _good_ the scrape of Obi-Wan's beard would feel right about now, all up against his lips and chin and teeth.

"Did you see this part about Republic supply lines?" Anakin points out. Of course Obi-Wan saw it. It's fucking _Obi_ - _Wan_ , but he isn't sure what else to do when he's so close to him, when that Feeling is building up at a dangerous rate. He just wants to be _close_ , just wants to push his face against Obi-Wan's and have one nice thing for just a second, just a single second--

"The delay in running supplies to the front lines? Yes," Obi-Wan answers. His voice flows smooth like honey, quiet and confident in all the ways that Anakin is familiar with. Obi-Wan is a beacon of familiarity, here in their foreign hotel room with ugly, garish decor that makes them both grimace. "But you haven't seen the end, clearly-- they've established another travel route for supplies. Faster," he explains, very slowly. "More direct."

Supply lines aren't inherently sexy, but the way Obi-Wan tenderly murmurs about them into the curve of Anakin's neck definitely fucking is. Anakin fights a bodily shiver, feels his eyes shut for just a second, but it only takes a second for the Feeling to fully wash over him. It echoes loudly in the Force, the ache, the itch that begs for scratching.

Anakin opens his eyes, slowly turning to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan is already looking at him, and there's only a moment, two, before Anakin is gathering Obi-Wan's hair up in a fist and smashing their mouths together in an aggressive kiss.

Obi-Wan's beard scrapes deliciously against Anakin's face just as Anakin knew it would, and he feels the way Obi-Wan's breaths come out shakily through his nose. He feels the Force flare around them, feels Obi-Wan's tug, and Anakin licks his tongue deep into Obi-Wan's mouth in response. Yes. _Excellent_.

They don't waste a lot of time with formalities; they don't need to at this point. Anakin takes the lead in wrestling with Obi-Wan's belt, mechanical hand jerking roughly to work it open. He moves in to straddle Obi-Wan's lap, nearly singing when he feels Obi-Wan's large, calloused hands slide over his thighs and anchor at his narrow hips.

Anakin stops kissing Obi-Wan long enough to catch his breath, shoving at his own belt and tunics in the process. He roughly strips off his topmost layer, settling for rucking up the undershirts and pushing down his pants to get his cock out. He hears the low rumble of approval (or surprise?) from Obi-Wan, but decides he isn't so foolish as to look Obi-Wan in the eye as he uses his flesh hand to give himself a rough few strokes.

This is enough. The Force swells with the sentiment-- enough, enough, it's _wonderfully_ enough-- and Anakin hunches himself over Obi-Wan as he jerks himself off. He lets his jaw hang open, his breath coming in short huffs as he touches himself. He shuts his eyes, but the Force gives him enough to experience even with his eyes shut; he feels Obi-Wan finally reaching down to touch himself as well, the rush that comes with the first few strokes.

Anakin's pace is fast and relentless. His cock is heavy in his hand, and he can't help jerking his hips into the tight circle of his fingers. He drops his head down against Obi-Wan's shoulder, something that should be so chaste, but it feels oddly primal with the need that burns so deep in his belly. Anakin chews his lip through a choked grunt, pumping his fist in the same brutal pace. He wants to savor it, but he's also impatient, as he always is.

Obi-Wan doesn't seem to be in much better condition, perhaps to his own chagrin. Anakin feels Obi-Wan's panting breaths, the tremble in his arm as he touches himself. His pace isn't as rough as Anakin's, but it certainly isn't slow; he is chasing the edge just as hungrily as Anakin is. The Force is just so _much_ and feels like _everything_ , all at the same time-- it's a delicious feeling, no matter how vague.

Anakin jumps a little at the feeling of a heavy arm being slung around him, fisting in his tunic. It is a momentary distraction, but not unwanted, and Anakin presses his forehead into Obi-Wan's shoulder, almost painfully so. It is ridiculously intimate for something that does not necessarily scream "intimacy" but there's so much between them that is too intimate to be normality. It's always like this, always _so much_ and _all the time_ , but that isn't bad, especially not when he's so close--

Anakin grunts his way through a powerful orgasm, one that makes him shake all over as he spills into his hand, onto Obi-Wan's robes. His mechanical hand twists tight at the nape of Obi-Wan's neck, not to hurt, but out of a need to anchor himself to some aspect of reality. He's still trembling in the aftermath when Obi-Wan works himself over the edge, licking his lips at the way Obi-Wan's hips rut against nothing but his own hand and he hears the shaky noise Obi-Wan huffs out mid-orgasm.

They sit like that for a minute, limp and heavy with pleasure. The Force makes them both feel a bit melty, like reality will slide away and the only thing that will be left is the two of them, sweaty and a little breathless. It is a shared comfort that both seem to echo within the Force.

There is a moment right after where Obi-Wan pets a hand down Anakin's side in a way that is so fond, Anakin feels his chest go all tight at the gesture. It's fleeting, but it's there-- only for a moment, before Obi-Wan pats Anakin's hip and mumbles for him to move, please, the words soft enough that they blow a bit of Anakin's hair where Obi-Wan mumbles them against his head.

Anakin sloughs off of him then, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Obi-Wan sighs and straightens up. He straightens up the coffee table, then his robes, then thinks better of the latter and starts stripping on his way out of the room, predictably to shower.

This is not the first time, and realistically, Anakin knows it won't be the last. The war will still go on. This trip will end and another will begin. He will continue to work with Obi-Wan for the benefit of the galaxy. He will take whatever morsels of... whatever this is, for as long as he is permitted.

He rolls over, finally, to sit properly on the sofa again. His cock is still untucked from his pants, robes disheveled, but Anakin can't bring himself to care. He deserves not to care, he thinks; he does _plenty_ out of caring.

Like not acknowledging whatever this thing is with Obi-Wan in a capacity that will send Perfect Jedi Master Kenobi careening into a self-hating nosedive because it's not _right_ , Anakin, it's not the _Jedi Way_ , this isn't--

Anakin rolls his eyes at himself-- it's sad how deep Obi-Wan's gotten into his head, nowadays-- and scrubs a hand over his face. He isn't going to let himself ruin whatever satisfaction he's got now.

"Don't use all the hot water in there," Anakin calls out over the sound of the shower.

He feels the fondness in the Force before he makes out Obi-Wan's amused chuckling as the water is cut short. Obi-Wan's smile is ridiculously genuine when he pops his head out from behind the doorway, despite how silly his wet hair and beard makes him look.

"All yours, Anakin."

Yeah. If only.

**Author's Note:**

> I recently got into Star Wars and these two are going to be the death of me. Cry.


End file.
